


Only You Know Me

by leiaryes



Series: You're There (With Open Arms) [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Waking Up, literally all fluff, nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 05:45:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17156336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiaryes/pseuds/leiaryes
Summary: It’s a strange thing to think about. Years ago, Lance doesn’t think he would have been caught dead uttering the wordsI have a crush on Keith Kogane.Now though, looking at the sleep-ridden form of the boy beside him, he doesn’t know if there’s any place else he’d rather be. It’s a bit like coming home, he thinks‒being with Keith. It’s comfort. It’s warmth. It’s the knowledge that despite everything, despite blood and battle and whatever else the universe has thrown at them, there’s a place where he belongs. Molded perfectly to fit between the arms of a fiery, passionate enigma of a boy. There’s a place where Lance belongs.A post-canon klance drabble





	Only You Know Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! For those of you who follow me on tumblr, you'll know that this a short drabble I wrote for my klance kiss prompts, in particular, **a kiss on the back.**
> 
> It's set post-canon, probably a few years after the war has ended. I hope you enjoy!

The morning sun streams in through the open window, its warmth enveloping Lance in a hazy blanket of tranquility and bliss as his eyes blink open and his surroundings come to. Outside, he can just make out the gentle ebb and flow of the ocean waves coming in, hear the faint call of the gulls and the light breeze blowing past as the world around him begins to wake. He lets out a quiet groan and sits up, stretching out the stiffness from his muscles and allowing himself a few simple moments of _being_ , taking in the sounds and smells of his home country just beyond the window.

The tinkling of a bicycle bell. The honeyed aroma of fresh _pastelitos_ from the bakery down the street. The delicate laugh of a child playing with a neighbour’s dog. It all washes over him, and Lance closes his eyes and breathes.

They open again when the sheets beside him shift, and he looks down with a smile on his face to run his gaze over Keith’s still sleeping form. The blanket that pools at his waist. The line of drool trailing from the corner of his lips down past the curve of his chin. The soft head of messy hair resting atop the pillow.

His hand reaches out, and Lance finds himself instinctively pushing back the dark strands from the boy’s face, reveling in their softness. They tangle in his fingers, and quietly, Lance promises to take a brush to it to work out the knots. Maybe even braid it, if Keith decides to sit still long enough this time. He moves on to trace his fingers over the sharp contour of his cheekbone, and Keith nuzzles into his hand as a content sigh escapes past his lips.

Something warm flutters in his chest. Keith burrows further into his hand, and Lance melts.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. Despite it being months now, the idea of waking up next to the boy beside him leaves his heart racing each and every time. A giddiness like no other coursing through him at the notion that this, all of this, could be his.

That he’s not dreaming.

That every moment leading up to this, every moment from here on out, has been real. _Will_ _be_ real.

It’s a strange thing to think about. Years ago, Lance doesn’t think he would have been caught dead uttering the words _I have a crush on Keith Kogane._ Now though, looking at the sleep-ridden form of the boy beside him, he doesn’t know if there’s any place else he’d rather be. It’s a bit like coming home, he thinks‒being with Keith. It’s comfort. It’s warmth. It’s the knowledge that despite everything, despite blood and battle and whatever else the universe has thrown at them, there’s a place where he belongs. Molded perfectly to fit between the arms of a fiery, passionate enigma of a boy. There’s a place where Lance belongs.  
Keith shifts, and Lance moves his hands down to trail over the bare skin of his shoulders, pausing every now and then to brush his thumb over the motley scars that dot the boy’s porcelain skin.

_He’s beautiful,_ Lance thinks. Not in the way a flower is delicate and gentle, or the way the ocean is deep and haunting, but in the birth of a star: brilliant and powerful. It’s in his actions, the way his every movement brings with it a sense of purpose and reason. It’s in his eyes, passion and fire and a deep, deep heat that leaves Lance breathless when those same indigo irids meet his from across the room.

His hands travel further across the divots and valleys of Keith’s back until they come to rest atop the soft sheets that pool along the boy’s waist. He traces the scar there, a deep line that Lance knows wraps around the boy’s torso to reach his other side. A reminder of a battle long and hard-won. Of blood-stained flooring and terrified fingers clutching onto his.

Lance leans down, slowly, almost hesitant at first, and presses his lips to the soft tissue. His touch his gentle, reverent in the way it always is when he’s exploring Keith. His mouth moves along the mark, leaving soft kisses in its wake until he has nowhere left to go. And then he finds his way back, tracing Keith’s scars to the place where sheets meet ivory skin. His eyes drift closed as he continues, and Lance loses himself in the sensation as he begins making his way up. Past the planes of his lower back, across the notches of lean muscle hardened through years of training and fighting. His breath ghosts over the boy’s skin until he arrives at the place where his shoulders meet. The divot that he can’t help but run a finger across as he places a final, lingering kiss and rights himself.

Indigo meets navy in that strange in between of early morning haze.

Keith blinks, slow and sleep-ridden, and Lance can’t help but smile.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he greets, and runs another hand through the boy’s hair. Keith hums appreciatively, a soft thing, burrowing further into his palm.

“What time is it,” he mumbles from beneath.

“I don’t know,” Lance answers truthfully.

“Hmm,” Keith lets out, “you should come back to sleep. I miss you.”

Lance laughs, and twists a lock of dark hair before tucking it gently behind the boy’s ear. “I’m right here,” he chuckles.

“I still miss you.”

He’s going to burst, he thinks. Combust in an explosion of overwhelming emotion because Keith Kogane is going to utterly and absolutely be the death of him. Warmth and affection rush in and engulf him, his chest constricting as a soft sort of tenderness settles in his heart for the boy blinking sleepily up at him.

He lowers himself slowly and pulls the sheets up until they’re covering both their shoulders. A hand cards through dark hair before falling naturally across Keith’s waist, bringing him in closer. Their legs tangle, and Lance finds himself gazing at the boy before him. At the way long eyelashes fan over sharp cheeks. At the way a small nose scrunches up. At the way a furrow of a brow relaxes.

“ _God,_ I love you,” he whispers. “So much.”

And in the space between unconsciousness, the time between falling out of this reality and into another, he thinks he feels the ghost of a feather-light kiss pressed upon his lips, and a low, sleep-ridden voice murmuring four simple words.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Keith is a sleepy boi and Lance loves it :)
> 
> I hope you liked that! S8 was a disappointment but these two will forever be in my heart. As always, you can come chat with me on my tumblr: [here](https://leiaryes.tumblr.com)


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